


Never Your Fault

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Post War, Post-War, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Eternity, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-26
Updated: 2008-08-26
Packaged: 2018-10-27 16:01:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10812276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: "He sat there, shock still. His entire world seemed to be collapsing. Everything the two of them had done these last few weeks was utterly worthless. His daydreams of giggling babies and the pitter-patter of little feet were destroyed."Hermione and Ron are expecting...until something goes horribly wrong.





	Never Your Fault

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).
> 
> **Author's notes:**
> 
> Ron and eventually Harry's POV. I was thinking about the possible reasons why Hermione and Ron would only have two kids, seeing as that Harry and Ginny have three. This was the result. 

Her tears were falling thick and fast upon the hardwood floor. Her knees on the ground and her head a hair’s breadth from the dark oak panels. Her small frame was bent over as if in pain. Her hands curled in tight fists pounded viciously on the ground. The sobs she radiated seemed to have reached a peak, and at that decibel layer, they continued.

He stood a few feet away in the doorway, unsure of what he should do. He struggled between going to her side to comfort her from this unknown grief, or if he should do as instinct screamed and turn around in order to let her carry on in peace. Ron thought of the last time she had been on this floor. It was almost four months ago now…

_Ron walked into the house, fully intent on going straight to the kitchen to fix a cup of tea and relax until Hermione came home. He was surprised, therefore, to find her sitting cross-legged upon the sitting-room floor. Surrounding her was an assortment of open magazines, a few books, and what appeared to be every pastel color known to humankind._

“ _Umm, Hermione?” was all Ron managed to say in light of what he saw._

_She looked up from her collection with the biggest smile on her face. “Oh, Ron! Come here…I want to show you something.” She patted an uncluttered section of floor next to her._

_He made his way, ever so carefully, through the maze of papers she had indicated. Finally reaching it, he sat down. He put his arms around her waist as she searched intently for something in the clutter. As she finally located said magazine, he pulled her into his lap, and gave her a quick kiss. She readjusted herself in his lap and looked sternly into his eyes._

“ _Now, Ron, I need you to answer me as honestly as possible, okay?” she stated._

“ _Yes, dear. I can’t lie to you anyways, you know that.” He answered while nuzzling into her sweet-smelling hair. She playfully pushed him away and shoved a magazine page under his nose. “Now, do you like the pale yellow or the gold dust crib better?” She moved the page full of baby cribs into place for him to properly see._

_He did a double take between the infant bedding section, and his wife’s smiling face. “Hermione, are – are you- your not…” He was unable to pronounce the last word._

“ _Ronald Billus Weasley, you’re going to be a father!”_

_The next thing he remembered was waking up to a wet washcloth on his face, and his mother’s voice. He could hear Hermione faintly crying._

“ _Don’t worry yourself, dear. He has never been one for surprises. He did the same thing the day he got his Hogwarts letter,” his mum was saying, “Arthur fainted when I told him I was pregnant with Bill, and Fleur told me he passed out for a full hour when he was told about little Victoire. Don’t get so upset, Hermione, it runs in the family.”_

“ _I was just so worried, one second he’s completely fine, and the next he’s flat on his back in the middle of the sitting room,” his wife’s frantic voice explained, “maybe I should have broken it to him a little gentler.”_

“ _Yeah,” Ron groaned, while attempting to sit up. “…a little more lead up would have been appreciated.” Ron finally managed to dispose of the washcloth and assume an  upright position only to be pushed back down again. Hermione had flung herself on top of him. He gently pushed her off and whispered into her ear “I can’t believe it; we’re going to be parents.”_

Summoning up his Gryffindor courage, Ron walked softly into his sitting room, and knelt upon the floor next to his love. He extended a hand to her back and slowly began to rub it, trying to sooth her. It worked, if only a fractional amount. Her hands uncurled and went around his neck. Her head also moved, replacing itself in his chest. Quite glad that he had worn muggle clothes to work that day, he used his other hand to stroke her hair as she continued to weep, though not as loud now, into his shirt. Since he was still in the dark as to why Hermione was at all upset, his comfort seemed hollow. He could only repeat shallow phrases such as ‘it’s okay’ and ‘ssssh, now. I’m here’ into her ear.

After about a half hour, she stopped crying so hard. Her tears had almost completely subsided and her grasp on his shirt slackened. She looked up into his eyes, and he noticed that her face was red and blotchy. He was unsure as to whether or not he should ask why she was so upset. Ultimately deciding that she would find it offensive if he didn’t, he carefully chose his words.

“Hermione, what’s wrong? You can tell me anything. I love you.” Ron said quietly into her now wet hair. She sniffed and wiped some of her tears away on the back of her hand.

“R-ron…” her voice was cracked and shaky, “I-I went t-to the healer’s t-today and…and…” she was unable to continue.

“’Mione, it’s not…” he slid his hand down to her stomach. With a sharp intake of breath he added, “….the baby?”

This set her off into renewed sobs. Ron’s mind was reeling with the possibilities. Was the baby hurt? Did it have a disorder? Were there complications? Was Hermione hurt too? His eyes began to tear, matching hers.

“We….I-I lost the baby, Ron.” She pushed herself away from him, as if fearing her would strike her. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed, “I’m sorry.”

He sat there, shock still. His entire world seemed to be collapsing. Everything the two of them had done these last few weeks was utterly worthless. His daydream’s of giggling babies and the pitter-patter of little feet were destroyed. That’s when the tears really began to free fall from his own eyes.

“I’m sorry, Ron, I’m so sorry.” She looked at him pleadingly, wanting to react somehow. He saw fear in her eyes; perhaps she thought he was going to blame her. “I’m so, so sorry.”

He reacted to her fearful voice by snapping out of his trance. He moved to his rightful place by her side. She cringed, but he ignored this and pulled her closer to himself. “It’s not your fault,” he stated firmly, despite his own tears, “Never your fault, were going to get through this, ‘Mione, we’ll get through this together.”

She took comfort in the fact that he understood. “It was the war. The healer said it shouldn’t have affected me so far after it, but it did. What are we going to do?” She buried her head in his chest, again.

He didn’t answer, he didn’t have one. He suddenly heard the unmistakable ‘whoosh’ of someone flooing into the fireplace. He turned his head to the side to see the form of his best friend, Harry, standing there.

_Harry POV_

Harry stepped out of the fireplace, not even bothering to brush himself off. “Ron!” he shouted, “Hermione!” He shouldn’t have shouted, there they were, straight in front of his nose.

He was reminded of Dumbledore’s funeral. The couple was in what seemed to be the exact same position. Tears were running down Ron’s face and dripping off his nose. Harry couldn’t see Hermione, but assumed she was crying also, judging by the large wet spot on Ron’s tee shirt near where her head was placed.

Harry let the “Ginny just went into labor.” die in his throat. He had plenty of time to tell them before Ginny actually gave birth.

 


End file.
